


Fierce Encounter

by UnaFearless



Series: Dark Desires [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Consensual, Finger Sucking, Force Bond (Star Wars), I Ship It, I'm Bad At Tagging, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Questions, The Dark Side of the Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:47:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21637597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnaFearless/pseuds/UnaFearless
Summary: Here we go again, the next encounter between Piett and Vader, where after some most satisfying actions a few questions are being answered.
Relationships: Firmus Piett/Darth Vader
Series: Dark Desires [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1507625
Comments: 9
Kudos: 65





	Fierce Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Obscure Encounter - There you have it, the next Vader/Piett story. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> [As usual I tried my best to get it all right and edited it a hundred times or so. This is the best version I came up with and I really hope it is ok. Let me know in the comments. Friendly reminder: I'm not a native english speaker.]

**Fierce Encounter**

Again Admiral Firmus Piett stood before Vader, in his private rooms, summoned out of the quarterly staff meeting to come before the dark lord at once. This time there were not only sympathetic looks following his way out of the meeting room, but questioning and confused ones as well.

It had only been a week since his obscure encounter with Lord Vader. Now, Piett was in the same situation as last time, in the same semi dark room, Vader again sitting in the armchair and him standing a few feet away. He felt the burning gaze of his superior physically, his heart was in his throat as his nervousness reached its peak. He could hardly bear it, didn't dare speak, and Lord Vader had not addressed him since he'd entered the room. There was a deafening silence, only interrupted by the constant, soft humming of the ships engines and Vader's distinct breathing sound.

Firmus knew why he was here. Vader knew. And Vader knew that he knew. Words were not needed.

So Piett started fumbling on his uniform jacket to open it, as it was expected. Slowly, hesitantly, eyes always on the Sith Lord.

“Leave your pants, the boots and the gloves on,” Vader said, his voice quiet and soft like the last time they had been alone.

The resonance of his deep voice sent a pleasant chill through Piett's body, wishing he could see Vader's face. The expression in his eyes would tell him so much. Yet, there was only this black, rigid duraplast mask staring at him.

While stripping his upper body arousal and anticipation grew. Firmus swallowed to get rid of the dry feeling in his throat, his blood rushed through his veins, heat collected in his crotch. In the end he stood as the Sith Lord had demanded, cool air on his naked skin as he waited what was to come next.

Vader moved, got out of the chair and walked up to him like a predator approaching its prey. “So eager, Admiral?”

All of a sudden he was so close. Piett gasped. The armor of the dark lord touched his skin, he felt the rise and fall of his chest while breathing. The black fabric of the armor faintly scratched his skin, the control buttons of his chest computer lightly pressed in. Firmus carefully gazed up at Vader, his pants already too tight in the lower regions. “Well, this is why I'm here my lord, am I not? To … _serve_ … you again.”

Then something happened that was extremely weird, almost scary. Darth Vader chuckled. His body shook with soft laughter, the sound strange, thrumming through Piett's own body and causing a tingling sensation. 

“Yes,” the Sith Lord said when the laughter finally subsided. “But I like to think of it as a mutual arrangement. I serve you as much as you serve me.”

The Admiral moistened his lips and nodded. “I see.”

“So don't be afraid when you're here with me alone. Be frank and honest, that is all. I don't have the intention to kill you. Simply relax and enjoy.”

Piett swallowed, once again. Vader couldn't be serious, or was he? He couldn't tell, the dark lord was generally known to punish everyone at the slightest whim, which usually ended in death.

Unexpected Vader leaned forward and tilted his head a little. “I know you have a wish,” he whispered in his ear. “A desire. I saw it in your mind.”

He was so dangerously close and then … ah, his gloved palms touched Piett. The cool, rough leather gently wandering over his sides and chest, kneading his skin, thumbs seductively playing with his nipples. A moan escaped Piett and he closed his eyes to this pleasurable sensation.

“The physical … you need the physical aspect,” Vader breathed. “Tell me, why am I so appealing to you?”

Again Vader caressed his chest, firmly digging his fingers into the skin, then pinching and twisting his nubs. Piett hissed in some breath before another helpless gasp fell from his lips. This felt so good, the roughness and the sweet pain, and it was Vader doing this. Piett was trembling, his knees turned into jelly, what he did to him, the way it made him feel—Piett was bone hard by now. “I … I ...” he stammered and tried to form an articulate sentence. “I don't know, my lord. Maybe it is your strength, your powerful presence,” he finally managed to say with a weak voice. “I could ask you the same question in return.”

Vader stopped in his tracks and looked at Admiral Piett for a moment. “You're right,” was all he replied before he grabbed him by the neck and pushed him against the viewport behind the armchair, pinning him to the cold transparisteel with his heavy body. “You're simply perfect, looking for something rough and demanding, knowing I can give that to you.”

“Yes, that's what I want, desperately,” Piett whispered and was ashamed to admit his dark desires to Vader. Palms flat on the transparisteel he felt the hard, uncomfortable surface of the window on his chest and belly, the powerful body of Vader in his back. The view into space and at the stars was breathtaking, as was the man behind him. Vader touched his hips and thighs, pressing his lower body against his rear, kicking his legs apart with a foot. Piett wanted more and Vader gave him more. A hand was on his butt, then between his legs rubbing him provocatively. Piett only wished all the disturbing fabric of his pants would be gone and he could feel him on bare skin.

Vader made a low, strangled noise which sounded like a moan. One of his hands circled around Piett's hip and fumbled on the hook and zipper of his jodhpurs, quickly opening them. “Then you shall have what you wish for,” he hissed. A moment later he palmed his hard, throbbing flesh, pumping with an enticing rhythm. “And as you've put it so correctly last time, I _am_ only human, with needs and desires. And right now I have a craving desire for you.”

This was a confession Piett didn't expect, something snapped in his brain and he gave himself over. The leather of Vader's hand on his cock, the skilled movements that fuelled his lust even more. Piett grew bold and pulled down his pants until they hung around his knees. “Then give it to me, my lord,” he implored. “I'll take it all with pleasure.”

Suddenly Vader grabbed his hair and pulled back his head, looking into Piett's hazel eyes. “You really want this.” It wasn't a question, rather a statement.

“Take me, I'm all yours.” Piett pleaded, gazing at the dark lord with lust. Vader let go of his hair, grasped his chin and pressed two fingers between his lips. Piett tasted leather and metal, licked and sucked at them as if he was giving a blowjob. Vader's breathing noise came fast, at times irregular. Piett's heart jumped as he noticed the Sith was clearly aroused. Vader watched him for a while then withdrew his hand. Strands of saliva were stretching from Piett's lips to the now ruined leather of his glove.

A moment later Piett felt those fingers circling his entrance, then slowly driving in. Splaying his legs even wider to make it easier for Vader, panting hard when those fingers were finally buried deep within him. He turned his head to look at the Sith. “Go on,” he pleaded with quivering voice. “Don't stop.” With one hand he touched the shiny black duraplast of Vader's faceplate. It felt smooth and cool.

Slightly Vader flinched, as if he wanted to shy away from Piett's touch. But then his head leaned even closer in, his other hand wrapped around Piett's throat, firmly holding him in place while he kept thrusting his fingers into him. “It amazes me how much pleasure you find in this,” he growled.

And there it was again, that overwhelming sensation of lust and greed not coming from himself, Vader's emotions radiating merciless onto him. Piett couldn't help but gasp and groan out loud.

“See what you do to me?” The voice of the Sith was so close to Piett's ear, low and soft and alluring. “What do you _want_ , Admiral? Tell me.”

Piett's fingers grabbed for Vader's wrist, his muscles trembled because of the uncomfortable posture and he needed to steady himself. Another flood of emotions proceeded from the dark lord, sweeping through his body. Helplessly he whimpered, “I want you to fuck me.”

A lustful rumble went through Vader's chest. “Your wish shall be granted.” 

Next thing Piett was in this strange, hazy state again, like the last time they've been together. A storm broke in on him and he no longer knew left from right, what was reality and what not. The Force surrounded and permeated him, which Vader unquestionably used in a most inappropriate way. Impossible for Piett to say if Vader was actually inside of him, filling him up so deliciously and fucking him into ecstasy. Perhaps it was merely his hand, maybe just this invisible energy the Sith willed to do whatever he wanted. All Firmus knew was that he'd never before felt anything like this. His lustful screams and pleading moans were proof of it and all the while he was shamelessly begging for more.

At the end he was completely worn out. Spent. Total satisfaction. His entire body felt sore and pleasantly ached in certain parts. He knew he wouldn't be able to move properly for the next week or two.

“You look very pleased, Admiral,” a quite breathless Vader said, obviously straining to gain control over himself.

Piett heard his words, but he had trouble concentrating on what they meant.

“It's just the reverberation of the Force. It will pass.”

A direct answer to Piett's thoughts. The soothing tone helped him to find focus. His eyes gazed up to Vader and that's when he realized he was kneeling before his superior with no idea of how he got into this position. Vader touched his chin, his cheek, in a gentle way. “I hope it was as you expected it to be?”

“Even more so,” he reverently replied, his voice hoarse and his mind in confusion. This tenderness, he was shaken to the bone because it was so unlike Vader. It could easily be seen as weakness, however, even a Sith could weaken at times, couldn't he? Especially when it came to carnal desires.

A gloved thumb drove over Piett's lower lip, slow, almost affectionate. “Get up and dress yourself,” he demanded abruptly and pulled back his hand.

Firmus did as told, scrambled to his feet with shaky legs, collected his regulation shirt and jacket from the floor to put them back on, pulled up his jodhpurs, closed them. There he noticed a wet stain on the fabric lateral of the zipper and startled. He'd soiled himself. Now he had to go to his quarters and change the uniform before going back to his station.

“No you won't,” he heard the firm voice of the Sith Lord from the other side of the room. “Leave it on, it gives me pleasure knowing you perform duty with the proof of your lewdness for everyone to see.” The Sith approached him, holding out a glass of water. “Drink.”

Hesitantly Piett seized the glass and took a sip. Still sweaty from their little action it felt good, the cool water running down his dry throat. His eyes never left Vader. He had questions but didn't dare to ask. Although, he had told him earlier to be frank and open. So he took another sip, then cleared his throat. “If I may, I would like to ask a question, my lord.”

Vader walked over to the armchair and took a seat. “Speak.”

Again Piett cleared his throat before he began. “Well, the question is of very _intimate_ nature.” Darth Vader kept silent, obviously waiting for him to go on, so Piett continued. “I was wondering if you … also … well, if you feel the same as I during … and if you … if it's possible for you to … finish.” He wanted to kick his own ass for stammering like a total imbecile.

For a second Vader didn't react, then there it was again, that mocking little laugh. “Oh yes, Admiral, very much so. I _finish_.” he simply answered, sounding amused. “My body might be extremely limited on the physical aspect, yet, with the help of the Force there simply are no boundaries, no limits. You wouldn't know the difference of being actually touched or not. Through our connection within the Force all these feelings and sensations are real and I experience them the same as you do. I know what you feel and think, every little bit. If you'd be force sensitive you would know all about mine in return. Since you aren't I cast them onto you to let you know, to spark and even heighten your lust.”

“Oh good,” Piett sounded relieved. “It'd be pretty one-sided otherwise.”

“Thanks for your concern, Firmus.”

His heart jumped, then began hammering in his chest. He'd said it again, his first name. Piett liked to hear Vader say it with his deep voice, and the way he said it gave him the tingles every time.

“Let me put it clear for you,” the dark lord continued. “I enjoy our little encounters to the fullest. Otherwise they wouldn't take place.”

“I understand, my lord.” A sudden silence was between them, Piett was standing there holding his glass and didn't quite know how to start asking another question that was on his mind.

“Anything else, Admiral?”

“Y … yes, Lord Vader,” he replied, trying hard not to stutter this time. “If all these things are possible through the Force, could it also be possible to … well, to kiss in this way?”

Vader abruptly sat up, straightening his shoulders, tilting his head to one side. Piett's heart sank, he'd gone too far. Vader was definitely upset now.

“That is a good question,” Vader replied and instead sounded puzzled. “I've never tried.”

Relieved Piett exhaled and his heart steadied finally. “As you noticed already, the physical aspects of our sexual activities are important to me. I want you to touch me and I need to feel you.” Piett took a meaningful break before he went on. “And the first time we … well, I felt the urge to kiss you. Strongly. I'm sorry for being so blunt about it.”

“I encouraged you to be.” The Sith rose from the chair and approached the Admiral. “Maybe this would be something we could explore on our next private encounter. Prepare to be summoned again within three cycles.” With these words he strode passed by him towards the door. Before Vader opened it he turned to Piett once more. “And Admiral, don't dare change the uniform today. I will check on you. If you're wearing a clean uniform before the end of your duty our next encounter will not be as pleasant for you.”

*

While Vader left his quarters with firm steps Piett's face turned beet red. He felt deeply ashamed. After putting on his cap he left as well. Outside the door, with the crimson Praetorians standing in line on the wall, he nervously straightened his uniform, pulling it as far down and in place as he could to cover up most of the treacherous spots. Then he inhaled and made his way to the ship's command bridge, only hoping none of his subordinates would notice these stains.

  
  



End file.
